To Deal with Loss
by Jimmy Candlestick
Summary: This is the story of the Teku dealing with Tone's dead. It's mostly through Kurt's eyes, and will be dealing mostly with him and Nolo. Title may change.
1. Chapter 1

**Uh...this story was on my mind for a while. I just finally decided to write it. It shouldn't be long, I can't really see it even going up to five chapters.**

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Kurt watched the cars path through the city as they neared the finish line. Someone-a person unbiased about who should win-had hacked into the city's security system, allowing the others to watch the race from above. He had only been with the Teku for about a month, and wasn't quite fully interested in who would win. As far as he was concerned, the Metal Maniacs wouldn't quite affect his driving style. Well, Taro Kitano might. But he was the only one.

Though, he from the races he'd seen Tone drive in, the guy was pretty good. And this Tork Maddox was a challenge. Shifting his weight, Kurt began to think that maybe these Maniacs could present a satisfying challenge. That was something he hadn't had in a long while.

He turned his gaze in the direction of the oncoming cars. Nolo, Tone Pasaro's kid brother-who was oddly a lot like Kurt's own brother, Markie-had gone a few houses down to watch their progress. The poor kid was worried about the race. Kurt knew that the Teku and Metal Maniacs were...how should he put it?...ah, yes, enemies. But, he didn't see how that would do anything to the race. According to Karma Eiss, the Maniacs weren't exactly the cleanest people around, but they raced clean.

With a sigh, he turned his attention back to the race. A yawn from behind made him turn around. He couldn't help but smile at the tired face of his younger teammate. "Past your bed time, Surfrat?"

Vert Wheeler glowered at him. "I was up to late last night."

Kurt chuckled. "Nice. Next time, stay home, your yawns distract me."

Vert threw a playful punch at the older man. They were on good terms. Better terms than Kurt was on with Markie.

An explosion sounded-they heard it before it showed up on the screens. A loud gasp was heard from the other spectators. A car squealed to a halt as it turned a corner, and before most of them realized who it was, Karma could be seen running as fast as she could to the crash site. It wasn't long before others were dashing after her.

As people rounded the corner, blazing flames leaping up, in, and around the crashed vehicle came into view. Tork had reached it before anyone else, and was currently holding Nolo down. The teen was practically kicking and screaming, trying to escape the man's iron grip, in hopes of reaching his brother. But it was clear to everyone there. Tone Pasaro was dead. No one could've survived that explosion.

Karma was leaning against a street house, a hand covering her mouth as she watched in silence, shocked at the image before her. Vert had also stopped, actually dropping to the ground, also stunned at the sight. By now, a few people tried to pry Nolo away from the scene, but he kept clawing his way toward the demolished car. Kurt ran forward and forcefully picked the Latino up, carrying him to one of the houses.

Kurt and a few of the more present-minded persons yelled at the bystanders to get as far away from the car as possible. Taro actually had to run and physically move people farther away. Sirens could be heard in the distance. The big red trucks were barreling around the corner when the car exploded again.

People instinctively threw themselves down, with hands covering their heads. Kurt pushed Nolo down, covering the teen with his whole body. Clinks of metal against asphalt could be heard as small pieces of the car rained down on them. When they stopped, Kurt sat up, pulling Nolo to a sitting position as well. They were both gasping as they watched the firemen do their job, and heavy streams of water spouted strongly from their hoses.

Kurt kept an arm around Nolo's shaking shoulders, and it took him a minute to realize that he wasn't trying to get away anymore. Somewhat alarmed, he looked over to see glassed over eyes, and an emotionless expression.

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The garage was silent. Shirako Takamoto was slouched on the couch, looking at his playlists, though seemingly unsure of what to do. It was past three in the morning, and they were still all in the garage under the apartment Tone used to share with Nolo and Shirako. The young Japanese man had long moved out from his parent's to do his racing more 'conveniently.' Though, after today, Kurt knew that Shirako was going to have doubts about ever racing again. That happened often after a racing tragedy like this.

Vert was working at his car. The vehicle didn't need any work at all, but the blond was doing it anyway. He had checked the oil a dozen times already, and the transmission. His muffler had been looked at and tweaked so much, Kurt wasn't sure the engine would be able to make a sound after that. It was clear that the teen didn't know what to do with himself. He was as jittery as a bird, and made quick, jerky movements like one.

Kurt and Karma were seated next to each other at the island in the small kitchen area of the garage. They were watching everything in silence. It was hard on Karma to accept what just happened. In the short amount of time he knew her, Kurt had never seen her this emotional. She had cried for an hour, albeit silently. She shivered, and Kurt handed her his jacket, which she accepted gratefully. They never got along very well, and Kurt had a feeling that this was going to be a rare moment between the two.

"I'm worried the most about Nolo," she confided quietly, wrapping the big jacket around her much smaller frame. "He was too calm about it when we all got back."

Kurt nodded, glancing at the stares that led to the upper floor. As soon as they had all arrived at the Teku garage, Nolo had stalked silently up the stairs, and when Kurt went up to check on him, he found the younger man changed, and asleep on his bed.

"Yeah," he verbally agreed. "I think it's going to take a while for it to sink in."

A 50 cent song interrupted any further conversation, and they both saw Vert's phone vibrate on the work table beside him. The blond glanced at it, but didn't bother to pick it up. Karma frowned worriedly at Kurt, who got the message and walked over to the phone.

He glanced at the caller id. "Your dad's calling."

Vert jerked violently at the sound of Kurt's voice, though it was low and gentle. He swallowed. "Yeah, he's probably wondering where I am."

Kurt sighed and pressed the small device in his hand. Vert smiled weakly in response and answered. A short conversation ensued, and it was obvious that Vert needed to head home. He mumbled a few things, and fished around in his pockets before coming up with the keys. When he did have them in his hands, he just stared at them. "I, uh...I guess I'll just go, um, go home."

Vert looked up at the older man, almost asking for permission in doing so. Kurt nodded, "Yeah. Here, I'll drive you."

Vert nodded slightly, though he apparently didn't fully understand what Kurt had just said to him.

Kurt looked back to see Karma gently nudge Shirako to a point of movement, and she guided him to the stairs, obviously telling him to go to bed. She turned back to Kurt, who himself was leading Vert to Slingshot. She walked toward them as Vert was sitting down in the passenger seat.

She paused right in front of Kurt, but didn't say anything. So he talked for her. "Are you going home?"

She nodded.

"Do you need a ride home?"

She shook her head.

"Will you be fine, though?"

She nodded, looking him straight in the eye. "I think I'll go to my sister's. I can stay there for a while. Just so I don't have to be alone."

Kurt was becoming a little unnerved at the looks they were giving him; as if asking for permission to do what they just said. So, he nodded again, "Okay. That's a good idea. Call me if you need anything."

Karma nodded again, hesitated as if she was going to say something, and then closed her mouth. Taking off the jacket, she handed it back to Kurt, murmured a thanks, and went to her own car. The man watched her drive off before getting into his own car, closing the car-as it were- and starting his own engine. Before driving out though, he took one last look at Vert. The teenager was sitting quietly beside him, staring unseeingly at his hands, which were folded neatly together in his lap.

The whole drive was quiet, and Kurt had to shake Vert's shoulder gently to let him know that they had arrived home. They both exited, and Kurt led him to the door. Major Wheeler was apparently waiting for his son to arrive, as he opened the door to let him in, the stern look on his face betraying the fact that a lecture had been awaiting as well. But that gaze quickly softened into a look of worry as he saw the looks on both the driver's faces.

Vert walked in the house, passing his father and heading straight for his room without saying a word. The military officer and turned to watch his son go, studying him carefully, looking for some sign of injury. When the blond had disappeared, Maj. Wheeler turned to Kurt.

"What happened?"

Kurt shifted his weight. "The leader of the street racing team we're on crashed and died tonight."

The major nodded understandingly. "What happened?"

Kurt shrugged. "I'm not sure. I think he took a turn wrong, and couldn't correct it. There were only two drivers on the street when it happened. It was a legal race, the roads had been blocked off."

The older man nodded again, then looked back to the directions of his son's room. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

They exchanged evening farewells, and Kurt drove back to his own apartment. He was crawling into bed when his cell phone rang.

"Hello?"

"_Kurt? It's Karma."_

He sat up. "Is something wrong?"

"_Well..." _she hesitated. _"Not exactly. I'm just really worried about Nolo. Could you spend the night there? I don't want something to happen."_

Kurt rubbed his eyes. The kid wasn't liable to do anything crazy yet. Shock and denial had set in. Kurt could see it. He would know, too, since he had seen it happen to a lot of drivers. A buddy-a teammate-just crashed and died on the track, and they absolutely refused to believe. They would go on living for a few days as if nothing ever happened. Nolo was acting the same way. But, Kurt could understand Karma's concern.

"Sure. I can do that."

"_Thanks so much!"_ He could hear the relief flood into her voice as she said it.

"No problem. Good night."

"_Good night."_

Kurt changed into a comfortable pair of jeans, and a light sweater. On his way out, he grabbed his pillow, and then a few changes of clothes. He figured it'd be a good idea to camp out there for a little while. It wouldn't be good to have two, teenage, grieving guys stay alone. Not with what just happened. Neither of them would quite know what to do. Especially not Nolo, when he 'awoke' from his shock.

The garage was quiet and dark when he arrived, and the apartment upstairs was the same. Kurt chose the apartment's living room to set up shop, and within moments was asleep, resting for the next days events.

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**Chances of me updating are a lot better when you review. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Here ya go! I know that 'Spy' is taking a while to update, but it's comin'! In the mean time, you can read this.**

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Kurt shifted comfortably where he lay. His eyes were still closed and he tried to figure out why his bed felt different, and why he was a lot closer to the edge than usual. And on top of that, he was sleeping in jeans. Groaning, he opened his eyes and began surveying his surroundings in confusion. Why was he in the Pasaro's apartment? Then he remembered.

Sitting up, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, listening to any sound from the bedrooms. Hearing nothing, he rose from the couch and headed for the small kitchen area. His first thought was breakfast. His second thought, however, overruled that. He would wait until the boys woke up to decide on that. So, instead, he started a pot of coffee.

Looking out the window, he peacefully gazed at the city as it greeted the day, and lived it. He could see the newspaper stand from the window. Kurt glanced at the two rooms, and decided he had time to get one. He wanted to see what was said about the accident. Though it had been close to one in the morning, the editor had most likely heard about it and either covered it himself, or called one of his reporters to record the story. Either way, it would be in the paper this morning.

The air was crisper than he would've liked. But it helped wake him up. It was fall and the leaves were already brightly colored with reds, oranges, and yellows. It was a bit baffling for a city with palm trees to have fall and winter, and actually show the signs of it. Despite the fact that the coldest it got was in the fifties, it never snowed, and the only reason these two seasons were fully realized because of its deciduous plants, some of Los Anglos' residents had heavy winter coats. Kurt never could grasp that reasoning.

With the paper in his hands, Kurt started reading as he walked back. Sure enough, the accident was on the second page, third column. No one was interviewed, except the police. And Kurt thought it would be best to keep it that way. The reporter didn't even know Tone's name. He was only listed as a 'Street Racer.' Climbing the stair back up to the apartment, Kurt thought that he wouldn't want to be known only as a 'Racer.'

He tossed the paper on the table and poured himself some coffee. Still no signs of life from the bedrooms. Kurt was a little worried. And when his thoughts and conversation from the previous night came to mind, he became a little more worried. He picked up the paper and tossed it in the garbage. He had read all he needed to know. And today wasn't a day for the funnies.

It was about thirty minutes later that muffled footsteps could be heard coming down the hall way. Kurt turned to face a disgruntled, and still shocked Shirako. The poor teen was loosely holding his headphones, glancing up quickly to see Kurt watching him make his way toward the table. Silently, he slumped into a chair, laying his head on the table, facing the stairs that led to the garage. Kurt watched him quietly, having a good guess as to what was to come.

A deep and heavy sigh emitted from his mouth, and Shirako's body heaved. "It really did happen, didn't it?"

Kurt sat for a moment, pondering if there was a good way to answer the small and quiet voice. "Yeah. It really did."

Another sigh. And then sobs. Kurt didn't do anything as the boy wept for his lost friend. A hand on his shoulder? No. Sometimes, a comforting hand won't matter. Tears will do the job well enough. So, Kurt stood and walked quietly back to the two rooms. To the left, was Shirako's, and to the right, Nolo's and Tone's.

He entered the right door, and looked at Nolo for a moment. He was still sleeping. Glancing at the clock, Kurt saw the time: 9:00. The teenager was only following his normal pattern. Kurt sighed as he turned away. He had hoped that this wouldn't happen.

Shirako had quieted somewhat when he came back to the table. At the sound of Kurt's footsteps, looked up. "What are we gonna do?"

Kurt sat back down. "Grieve. But, not forever. We have to get back to a normal way of living soon."

Shirako's face betrayed his confusion. "But, how soon?"

The man regarded his younger friend for a moment before answering. "As soon as possible."

Shirako's confusion deepened. "What?! And forget about Tone so soon?" Angrily he stood up and paced the room. "How can you think of doing that? That's cruel, Kurt!" His voice had risen, almost to the point of yelling.

A yawn interrupted any further conversation. "What's cruel? Kurt did you make someone believe they could beat you?"

They both looked up to see a smiling, tired Nolo. Shirako stopped dead in his tracks, shocked at this. He looked at Kurt, mouth pumping to form words that wouldn't come.

Nolo laughed, giving his friend an odd look. "What's wrong, Shirako? You look like you've seen a ghost." He looked around. "Hey, where's Tone? He wasn't in bed when I got up."

Kurt frowned. Not good. "Don't you remember last night? Sit down." He waved a hand toward the chair next to him.

Nolo poured himself a cup of coffee. "Sit? Last night? Oh, yeah! That race." He laughed. "That win was great. Tork's face was priceless!"

Shirako sank into his chair, his mouth suddenly dry. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked helplessly at Kurt. The man simply shook his head sadly.

Nolo scowled. "Aw, man! He wasn't out partying all night, was he? That would explain why he I didn't see him when I went to bed." He sighed and muttered something under his breath. "I'll be in the garage if you need me."

Kurt and Shirako watched him disappear down the steps. As soon as he was gone, Shirako choked on a sob. "What-did you give him the 'get-over-it-as-soon-as-possible' talk last night?"

"No. He's going through denial. His mind came up with a false ending to the race, and an explanation for Tone's not being here. I've seen a lot of people go through it. This is really bad, though."

Shirako took deep breaths, unsure of what to say. Finally, he said, "Well, at least you don't have to worry about _Nolo_ getting back to a normal life as soon as possible! He's got a jump start on that." He angrily left the table, a hand held over his mouth to hold back sobs, storming to his room.

Kurt sighed, looked at the last remnants of his coffee, drained it, and headed for the garage. A few hours with his engine would help put his thoughts into order before he faced things again.

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Across town, a tall, blond man was sitting at his desk looking at the same newspaper. The story on the crass wasn't particularly interesting to him, so he only skimmed over it. At the moment, he was looking at the media's account on the war. Which was mostly negative. Closing the paper, he left it folded on his desk as he headed for the kitchen for one last cup of coffee before he left home for the day.

Mild surprise showed on his face as he was greeted by the sight of his teenage son seated at the kitchen table. "When did you get up?"

Vert looked up, deep melancholy replacing the usual cheerful smile. "About half-an-hour ago."

Major Wheeler nodded. A moment of silence passed between the two before he asked another question. "Still can't believe it?"

Vert stared out the window, watching the waves crash down onto the beach. He shook his head in answer. "It's so weird. It just seems like people shouldn't die until their eighty, or something. You know, I thought that after Mom died, I'd be able to handle anything else. But I guess that it never gets easier. No matter how many friends die, each one will be as hard as the one before.

Jack Wheeler sat down at the table with his son, listening in silent agreement.

Vert softly laughed, and turned to his father. "You know, I went to sleep crying, but when I woke up, the first thing that came to mind was 'I think I'll head over to the garage.' When I didn't see my car, I couldn't figure it out for a minute. Then it all came back to me. And I started crying again." Even as he spoke, his voice started shaking, and tears started rolling down his cheeks. "Do you remember that talk we had after Mom's funeral?"

Jack nodded.

"It's playing over and over in my mind." He took a deep breath. "I almost don't want to stop feeling sad, and crying. It's as if I owe him all of my tears. Why do you think that is?"

Jack thought for a moment. "I think that maybe, it's because you're afraid of seeming cold-hearted. When I was on my first field mission, my buddy, Pete, was killed five minutes before we were to be picked up. When it happens on the field, you can't give yourself time to be shocked about it, or even to think about it. But the whole ride home, you can't do anything but cry. At first, I tried to hold back the tears, thinking that it was so normal to lose a friend like that, crying wouldn't be any help.

"But my commanding officer knew what needed to be done, and he just clapped his hand on my shoulder and told me to let it out. Days afterwards, I really couldn't stop, and, like you, I didn't want to. Then my commanding officer came up to me again and told me, 'I won't tell you that Pete wouldn't want you to act that way. Everyone says that. But I will tell you that forever dwelling on every dead soldier and friend is more disrespectful to them than weeping over them for one day. That soldier, or friend, no matter how they died, only wanted a good life for you. Even if you've only known them for a few days. You can't live a good life if you only grieve. Life is meant to be celebrated, and death is a part of life.'

"It took me a few days after that to completely straighten up, but I got the message. Don't keep on dwelling on the past, or the future which inevitably contains death. It will only keep you from living your life to the fullest. However, that being said, don't ever be afraid to grieve over those losses. It's also a part of life. It's human. And it helps shape you into a better man. In ways we don't always understand, our emotions often leave us with more wisdom than before."

Vert nodded. "Thanks."

"Any time," Jack replied, pulling his son into a warm embrace. "I've got to go. Are you going to be alright?"

Vert nodded, sniffing as he wiped away his tears. "Yeah. I think I'll stay home today. Maybe go surfing."

Major Wheeler also nodded, and left.

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Kurt closed his car, being done with the engine. He looked over at Nolo, who was still working on his own car, and dancing at the same time, his mind completely shut off to the truth of the night before. Kurt sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, not entirely sure how to explain things to Nolo. About an hour after they had both been in the garage, Nolo asked why Kurt had spent the night, and where Karma and Shirako were.

An hour after that, Nolo was making calls to Tone. Getting a little upset when his brother never answered, or replied. For the questions, Kurt answered with a question: "Don't you remember last night?" He did the same when Nolo called over and over.

A ring tone interrupted his thoughts, and Kurt quickly flipped open his cell. "Hello?"

A slightly quavering voice was on the other line. _"Hey, Kurt, how's it going over there?"_

Kurt sighed again. "Not so great, Karma. Nolo is in complete denial, and Shirako is having an extremely hard time with it. How 'bout you? You holdin' up okay?"

A pause. _"Yeah. Yeah, I'll be fine. But, I don't think I'll be coming in for a few days. Though, I think I'll make the funeral arrangements. Call me as soon as Nolo's come through with this."_

"Alright. Bye."

"_Bye."_

Closing the small device, Kurt took one more glance at Nolo before going back upstairs. The kid had stopped dancing, and the smile was faltering. Kurt hoped that this was a turning point. Though, he couldn't figure out why it would be, or how.

Walking up stairs, he headed straight for Shirako's room. The teen was lying on his stomach, head turned toward the wall. He must've been awake, since as soon as Kurt reached the doorway, his head moved to that direction. Kurt paused, then moved on, grabbing the computer chair from the desk and sitting on it.

After a moment or two, Shirako turned around and sat up, glaring at his older teammate. "What?"

"I thought I might explain to you what I meant earlier."

Shirako made no reply.

Kurt continued. "When I said we should try to hurry to get back to normal living, I didn't mean forget the whole incident, and forget all about Tone. I meant that we shouldn't let our grief weigh us down. If all we do is live in sadness over the death of Tone, how are we going to respect his memory? I'm not saying that it's wrong to grieve over someone's life, it's just wrong to be consumed by it. Do you see what I'm saying?"

Reluctantly, Shirako nodded. "Yeah. It's just so hard."

Kurt nodded. "It's very hard. But, life must go on. Death is just a reminder that we needed to live our best. Take life seriously, but, at the same time, have a great time. Enjoy every moment. Even when your dealing with something like this, you look for the blessings that are still around you."

Again, Shirako nodded. "Thanks, Kurt."

"No problem. I need to check on Vert, kid. Holler if you need me." Kurt clapped him on the back and left, still unsure of how he was going to help Nolo with this when the poor guy came around.

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**Be honest. Was it repetitive? Or fine? Review.-Jimmy**


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